


On the Origins of a Man

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Families of Choice, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The makings of a man… namely, one Jacob Jensen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Origins of a Man

“All that we can do, is to keep steadily in mind that each organic being is striving to increase at a geometrical ratio; that each at some period of its life, during some season of the year, during each generation or at intervals, has to struggle for life, and to suffer great destruction.” Charles Darwin, 1859.

 

Jacob Jensen, Age 7

Jake swung his legs back and forth, the untied laces of his shoes dragging on the floor. This pair had been taken from the lost and found to cover his socked feet. Last night his father caught him walking into the house with his laces untied and dragging on his mother’s clean kitchen floor. As far as Jake was concerned, the mud puddle jumped on him and drug him into its deep, dark depth. There was nothing he could have done and his shoes were the unfortunate victim.

The words of his father still rang harsh in Jake’s memory. Another disappointment.

“How many times do I have to tell you to tie your shoelaces, Jacob. You’ve got to learn your lesson.” Jake’s dad had stood over him, arms crossed over his broad chest and demanded Jake retied his shoes. “Not good enough. Again.”

The order had been made again and again until Jake lost count. Again-again-again-until-it’s-perfect-and-you’ve-learned-your-lesson.

Jake’s hands were shaking and fingers clumsy, until he begged, “Daddy, I’m sorry…”

Jake’s father dragged him to the driveway, threw him into the passenger’s side of the pickup and took off to the second hand store three blocks away without buckling him in. Jake knew better than to protest as he was hauled out of the truck and his father marched him inside. The military lifer found exactly what he was looking for and tossed the shoes at Jake. Pink velcro girl’s shoes.

“If you’re gonna act like a baby, then I’m gonna treat you like a baby. You’re wearing those until I say otherwise.”

That’s what Jake wore to school the next morning. They were too small and pinched Jake’s toes, but in the bigger picture, that was the least of his worries.

His mother had seen the shoes in the morning and only shook her head. “Try harder to obey and please your father, Jakey. You bring this on yourself.”

A few hours later and she was giving him a disappointed glare when she walked into the principal’s office. She didn’t hug him or ask if he was okay. She only made it worse by saying, “Wait until your father finds out.”

Not wait until he came, because Jake knew his dad would never leave his job to come to the school. He had never made it to parent-teacher interviews or school plays. Jake knew he would face the belt when he came home. Now he was simply forced to listen to the principal talk to this mother through the thin walls.

“What has he done now?” she asked.

“He set his shoes on fire, ” the principal answered.

“Excuse me?”

“This is very disturbing behaviour, Mrs. Jensen. He snuck out of class, picked the lock to the janitor’s closet and mixed some sort of chemical cocktail to douse the shoes. We’re not exactly sure where he got the blow torch from.”

“His father will straighten him out.”

“We don’t like to suspend a child of his age. Perhaps you could give me some insight into why he might act out like this?”

“He’s always been difficult. We’re not bad parents. His sister doesn’t act like this. This isn’t his first run in with trouble and I highly doubt it’ll be his last time. At least you’re not expelling him.”

“No, I’m not. I see by his rather substantial file that he’s been in a number of schools.”

“We move around a lot.”

“Three states on top of Germany and Japan since kindergarten?”

“My husband’s in the army.”

“That’s a lot of moving even for an army family, Mrs. Jensen.”

“My husband goes where he’s needed and we go with him. Can we get this over with? I’ll sign whatever paperwork you need and agree to whatever punishment you want to give him.”

“We want to help your son, ma’am. His teacher says he’s incredibly intelligent.”

“He’s too smart for his own good.”

“Maybe if he was challenged more, Jake would-”

“We’ve heard this all before. Listen, I want you to send him to whatever head doctor you have on staff. His father is tired of this bullshit and wants him on whatever drugs it’ll take to make him normal.”

“A pill won’t fix him.”

Jake wanted nothing more than for his mother to say, “There’s nothing to fix. He’s a good boy and I love him. I understand that he doesn’t mean to get in trouble.”

Jake rubbed the corner of his blood-shot eyes in an attempt not to cry. He’d learned long ago that crying just made it worse. His father made sure he understood at a young age that only girls and sissies cried. At each new school he tried on a new identity like a new pair of socks. He was willing to be whatever would get him the most friends and more easily accepted. Jake had been a jock, class clown, bad boy, but learned that being a nerd and teacher’s pet was a guaranteed way to get beat up, even if it felt the most natural.

What his mother eventually hissed made Jake’s shoulders slump.

“Jake’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

++++++

Jacob Jensen, Age 13

“Jacob! Get your ass in here!”

Jake came running knowing not to keep his father waiting. He kept his tread light on the stairs, remembering that thundering around the house pissed his old man off to no end. Jake ran into the den and managed to tame his long, gangly limbs into parade rest in front of the couch. He waited because rule one was don’t speak until you’re spoken to.

“I’ve heard that someone pulled some sort of bullshit over at the school.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Jensen knew lots of things. For instance…

Citric Acid  
+  
Sodium Hydrogencarbonate  
+  
Industrial Dish Soap  
+  
School Toilets  
+  
Colouring Agent  
=  
Massively entertaining rainbow bubbles overflowing from all of the toilets in the school.

He also knew that the most important rule of all was not to get caught. Over the years, Jake had learned the fine line of keeping his mind occupied and keeping his family in the dark. His brain had adapted to operating on two levels to fool the doctors, teachers, and his parents. The name of the game was playing average leading to the creation of Average!Jake.

He learned not to be the first person to raise his hand in class and certainly not to say the right answer every time, even though he knew it. Wear a mask to fool everyone and do the fun stuff behind their backs. Sometimes he forgot and got excited in computer or math class and he would slip up, but he usually remembered to rein in his enthusiasm so wouldn’t get the dreaded A+.

When he was younger and foolish, school was his refuge. In a new school, the teachers would be excited that he was smart and give him extra work. They would dote on him and Jake relished the attention. But as he got older, he learned that even though they were well-intentioned, the teacher eventually contacted his parents. Words like ‘gifted’ never settled well with his father and translated roughly to ‘freak’. Since Jake turned ten years old, Jake’s school records changed from testing off the charts to being an average student in the top twenty percent of his class. He had learned the key was to find the sweet spot of flying under the teacher’s radar and for his own safety and sanity, did the learning that counted outside of school.

Jensen listened and learned from his father’s rants about missions. Like a sponge he took it all in. Someday he was going to join the army and show his father that he was better than him. The façade Jensen developed was all part of his mission and a part of the game. In the mean time he pulled bigger pranks, testing to see if he would get caught. A part of him wanted to get caught. Any attention was better than nothing.

Computers and the local library were his greatest escape. Jensen kept the books secret, devouring whatever he could get his hands on. Books on everything from science-fiction, advanced chemistry, war tactics, history, puppets, animal physiology, how marbles were made, Russian lit, or whatever was available. Currently, he was reading a copy of the Egyptian Book of the Dead and a tome on Thomas Crapper.

“Answer me, boy. You had nothing to do with that stunt?” Jake’s father held up a newspaper with a picture of the principal knee deep in bubbles in the hallway.

His father’s gaze was cold and measuring, digging in and looking for any fault – any twitch. Jake kept his head held high, but his eyes lowered. He knew to show the proper amount of deference. A book on the hierarchy of wolves taught him never to challenge the alpha male outright until you were big enough to take him.

“No, sir.”

“Do you have anything you want to tell me before I find out?”

Jake joined whatever local team was available. When they were in Germany it was another type of football… soccer, and he was good at sports even though they bored him. At least it helped to wear him out. He joined because that’s what normal boys were supposed to do. He thought it would impress his father. He was clearly mistaken.

“I’ve made the football team, sir.”

His father grunted, clearly not impressed. “We’ll be moving before play-offs. Not that any team you’d play on would make it that far.”

These stunts were the few times he was the focus of his father’s attention. The man was so rarely home, usually away on missions. When he was on leave, Jake was barely a blip on his old man’s radar. Jake was getting ready to something obscenely stupid simply to get any reaction, but then the door open. Jake’s sister came skipping into the living room. Their father’s demeanour changed and he actually grinned.

He turned his back to Jensen and scooped his daughter up in a big bear hug. He kissed her on the top of her head and tugged on her ponytail. “Hello, sweetie.”

She was daddy’s little girl. Jake wasn’t bitter that he was continuously compared and found lacking to his sister. His sister was everything his father wanted her to be. She was genuinely sweet, friendly, and hum-drum average. When she went to bed at night she actually slept. She didn’t lie away at night like Jake begging his brain to shut up and give him some peace. She made friends without having to try to. His sister genuinely enjoyed class and sat still at her desk. At least she wasn’t a tattletale. She didn’t tell their parents that Jake pretended to take the pills that were supposed to keep him normal and flushed them after hiding them under his tongue. She didn’t understand his need to learn and do more-more-more, but she never once tattled on him, even helping to cover for him if he needed it. She would recite the cover story Jake gave her word for word, never being able to come up with the intricate lies herself.

When she smiled it was genuine, not a mask like Jake’s own. He felt like a snake under layers of skin… slithering around in the dirt, something to be feared and hated - hiding, always hiding in the dark places, but wanting so badly to be in the light. She was the good to his wickedness.

Jake loved her all the more because she was so heart-achingly ordinary. He was sure there was white picket fence life waiting for her and he would do everything in his power to make sure that fate happened for her. He knew most of all he would have to leave to protect her from his contamination. Jake would never let his shit affect her. It meant everything to him there was someone out there who loved him even though she didn’t understand him.

Jensen remained in parade rest as their father lavished affection on his sister. His gaze connected with hers as she silently apologized. She was Jake’s best friend despite everything and he could never hate her. She was the one member of the family that loved him unconditionally.

It hurt all the more that Jake knew his father was capable of loving and trusting someone. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t worthy. There was simply something inherently wrong with him. He was a born loser.

+++++

Jacob Jensen, Age 15

His sister figured it out first. She saw him watching the other boys on the football team when he should’ve been watching the cheerleaders.

She hugged him and begged him to make it go away. “Dad’ll kill you for being a faggot.”

It was what their father taught them to call perverts like him.

“If he finds out, he’ll throw you out or worse.” His sister sobbed into his shoulder, clutching at his jersey. “I can’t lose you, Jake. Hide it like you hide everything else. Bury it deep and don’t let it out.”

Later that week Jake charmed a beautiful seventeen year old cheerleader and made sure he timed it so he was caught at home before things went too far. Guys were supposed to get a slap on the shoulder and way-to-go wink for becoming a man from their dad. He pretended he got more than a hurried blow job and not even a kiss. He waited for something… any sort of reaction from his father. He was a man now and had down what he was supposed to.

The General simply stared at him, judging him, and Jake knew he had been found lacking once again. Jake waited until he was alone and the cheerleader had been packed off before he collapsed to the tiled bathroom floor and threw up.

++++++

Jacob Jensen, Age 18

Cougar heard them before he saw them. He’d always hated Tijuana with its hoards of college kids come down to party, but Clay had been insistent they had to meet a contact here later tonight. Around the side of the bar was a pack of frat boys sniffing around a drunk chica like a pack of wolves scenting the weak of a herd. Cougar hated men who took advantage of women, so he waited and watched in the shadows.

One of the boys caught Cougar’s eye immediately. Big, blonde, and all-American, with a winning smile. Bigger than the rest, Cougar pinned him for be the ringleader and the eldest. The others in the group were prodding him in the shoulder and pointing at the girl. She was wearing a short skirt, purple sparkly tube top and red high heels. No matter what the nuns had said about good girls and bad girls, Cougar believed they were all deserving of respect and protection.

One guy pushed the blonde kid. “C’mon, Jensen, go get her.”

Jensen shook his head and cracked a smile. “Nah, guys. I think I can do better. I saw this cute lil’ redhead-”

“She’s a sure thing! It’s too late to turn down a sure thing, especially with an ugly mug like yours.”

Jensen ducked away from the one who tried to cuff him upside the back of the head. “There’s just too much Jensen to spread around to spend time on one lady. Hey, let’s head back to the room and hit the bottle of Cuervo Gold, my treat.”

“Your lips flap a lot, Jensen, but I haven’t actually ever seen you score yet. Don’t you want to get laid?”

“Of course,” Jensen responded and tried to herd the group away from the girl. “But-”

“Are you a faggot?”

Jensen tensed at the insult. His body language changed and Cougar watched the kid’s fingers curl into a fist. He waited for a fight to start but instead the kid laughed, “Better be careful, dude. Someone might wonder why you’re so worried about who I’m boning.” The asshole’s drunken brain was slow to pick up on the insult and Jensen barrelled on. “You guys head out without me and let me work my magic alone.”

“Go get ‘er!”

“Yeah, yeah, you get lost.”

A few more insults were exchanged and Jensen charmed and insulted the group until they piled into a taxi, leaving him alone with the girl.

Jensen decided to resort to his best material. It was bound to get him exactly what he wanted. He sauntered over the young woman and crooned, “Hey there, sweetcheeks. Did you fart? Because you blew me away!”

He was expecting a slap in the face, but instead she snorted and slurred, “You’re f-funny ‘n’ haaaawt.”

“Damn it, you’re not only drunk, but dumb. Do you work at Piggly Wiggly’s ‘cause I wanna bag you like groceries.”

She laid her hands on his cheek and tried to pull him into a kiss, her breath putrid from cheap booze and a paper umbrella stuck behind her ear. Jensen felt sick to his stomach.

Jensen was getting ready to gently push her away when he felt a sharp pain in his gut. His brain couldn’t process the attack quickly enough for his liking, but he instinctively tried to protect the girl. The fist that connected with the side of his face was fast. That would definitely mean a black eye. There was another kick, this time aimed at his ribs, but he was able to block that one. He noted that the attacker was (a) wearing cowboy boots, (b) very limber, (c) had long black hair under a pretty awesome hat.

“Run,” Jensen yelled at the girl and landed a solid punch to the guy’s bicep. He’d been aiming for his head. He followed up with a round house kick that landed right on target on a nerve bundle in the guy’s legs.

The girl stumbled back into the club and he overheard her bragging in a slurred voice to some friends that there were men fighting over her. Then the guy kicked him in the head. She was pulled away by the chittering pack of sorority girls and it was at least consolation that she was safe.

The fight continued in the isolated alley. The man with the hat was a quick and vicious fighter. Jake was countering moves from a dizzying array of martial arts and street fighting. Cougar’s experience won out over Jensen’s size when he managed to take him down with a Judo hold. The older man slipped Jensen into a sleeper hold when he felt something around the kid’s neck. Cougar knew insistently what they were as the kid continued to buck and struggle, forcing Cougar to wrap his legs around him.

Dog tags.

In a quick flip-flop, Cougar manoeuvred the solider until the boy was under him. Cougar had his forearm pressed against Jensen’s throat and was straddling his chest. In the light thrown from the club’s bathroom window Cougar was able to get the first real look at him.

“Shit,” Cougar hissed under his breath.

Jensen was younger than Cougar had initially thought. He’d been fooled by the soldier’s height, broad shoulders, and muscles. He was no more than a boy. Fresh-faced and too damn young. Cougar catalogued something else surprising. The kid was breathing hard, his pupils blown wide and hard as nails under Cougar.

Following instinct, Cougar decided to try something. “Stand down,” he growled low and deep.

The boy froze immediately with the command.

Cougar kept him pinned as Jensen blinked at him. He caressed a finger tip along Jensen’s neck, noticing how his breath hitched and the younger man shuddered. Interesting. Cougar fished out the dog tags, searching for more information.

JENSEN  
JACOB A.  
123-45-6789  
AB NEG  
CATHOLIC

“I don’t like bullies,” Cougar hissed and wrapped the chain around his fingers, tightening it around Jensen’s neck. “Or liars.”

“I know what it looks like. You were watching, I bet. With my luck you were watching all of that macho posturing bullshit and came to the wrong conclusions. You saw me and thought. ‘Oh hey, there’s a meathead ready to do something nasty to a girl’. I get that… hey, if I saw that I would so beat my own ass up. But, I-”

“You talk too much.” Cougar thumped the kid’s head on the ground.

“You’d be surprised how much I hear that.” Jensen snorted with nervous laughter and squirmed under Cougar. “I was going to take her home.”

Cougar growled and thumped his head harder this time.

“Ow! Her home, not my home. I don’t want… I wouldn’t…” Jensen stopped and groaned when Cougar used his free hand to squeeze his embarrassing evidence of what was wrong with him. Despite his humiliation he couldn’t help but push his hips up - stupid, betraying body. “It’s the girl. She was hot. I-”

“I told you I don’t like liars.”

During the fight, Cougar had been impressed by how well the younger man fought. He was obviously inexperienced, but he had potential. Jensen could fight back, but at this moment he was just taking whatever Cougar was dishing out. The kid was clearly terrified and embarrassed. Cougar didn’t like that Jensen was shutting down and seemed to accept what he thought was an inevitable thrashing.

Cougar could see through it all. Under the buzz cut and bravado, Jensen was hiding and vulnerable. He loosened the hold on the dog tags and used his hand to caress Jensen’s skin under his shirt. Jensen’s reaction was mixed. He shivered, evidently unused to touch, but still craving it by the way he pushed back and his lips parted.

Affection starved, Cougar decided. Someone other than a drill sergeant had done a number on him. Cougar felt evidence of old scars along Jensen’s sides. Going on instinct once again, Cougar leaned in close and brushed his lips over Jensen’s chapped lips. The kid actually whimpered and huffed in shock.

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. This was his first kiss. Damn it, the boy’s first kiss was in a dirty alley and he was pliant under Cougar, desperate enough to take whatever a stranger would give him. Cougar cupped the smooth cheek, letting his instinct guide the encounter.

Something about this boy engrossed him. Cougar wanted to devour Jensen, kiss him, touch him… keep him. The connection was instantaneous and disturbing. Cougar really didn’t give a shit.

“Good boy,” Cougar whispered and Jensen shuddered under him with the praise.

Jensen parted his legs, bending his knees and cradling Cougar between them. His hands clawed at Cougar’s back, frantically trying to pull him closer as if Cougar would suddenly disappear.

Cougar shushed him and sensed how tense-eager-frantic Jensen was. “Tómalo con calma…”

“No, no, no,” Jensen babbled and this time it was his turn to smack his head on the ground. “You can’t just do that and then, take it away. Not fair, dude. So not fair. If you want to kick the shit outta me, then let’s get it over with. I’ve got places to be. I’ve got to-”

“Cállate, muchacho.”

“No. No, Christ, this is weird shit. Is this some sort of test? I felt your calluses… you handle a gun, a rifle. I can tell. You’re wearing dog tags, too. Oh my God, this is a test! Wave a hot Mexican carrot on a stick in front of the weak, weak hacker and see if he bites. I thought we were in the era of don’t-ask-don’t-tell? This is so unfair. I’m a white hat hacker, okay? Well, mostly, but those asshats in Amsterdam had it coming to them. I don’t tolerate people who mess with kids. I said in the interview that I had no reason anyone could blackmail me… it wasn’t a lie… mostly. I haven’t-”

Cougar shut him out with a intense kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. “Estás problemas.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have no idea how much trouble I am. Is this about the Pentagon’s firewalls? That was so completely a misunderstanding. It’s not my fault their eggheads can’t see outside the box.”

Cougar shook his head. He was definitely falling down the rabbit hole with this one. At least it would be a fun trip.

Jensen’s squinted and sighed wearily, “Is it about CSIS? Because the Canadians are so much more badass than we think. I mean, I hadn’t even heard of CSIS before that whole thing because that’s how good they are! The maple syrup incident was just my way of saying thank you and they totally over reacted. It’s not my fault the bears-”

“I could shoot you in ways you could never imagine from distances most people would consider impossible.” Cougar tapped the space between his eye-sockets and Jensen’s eyes crossed. “Right there, muchacho.”

“Oh.” Jensen squirmed underneath him even more. Apparently danger was a turn on for him. He licked his lips and moaned softly. “Damn, you’re a sniper. That’s so hot. Do you think you could-”

“Cougs, what in the hell are you doing?” Clay snapped and kicked Cougar in the ankle. “Or, should I say, who?”

Cougar glanced up to see Clay, Rogue, and Pooch standing over him. He’d been so wrapped up in the kid he hadn’t even noticed their approach. He’d pay them back for that later.

“We’ve got business to attend to,” Rogue rumbled, pulling out a bowie knife and scratching his ear. “So leave your pansy-assed plaything alone so we can-”

“Hey, the man with the gignormous knife is challenging my sexuality?” Jensen tried to get up, but Cougar kept him pinned. Unfortunately, he didn’t think to muzzle him right away. “You’re obviously over-compensating for a teeny-tiny dick, dickhead! And who said anything about me being gay?”

Cougar clapped his hand over the kid’s mouth while he was chuckling.

“Aw, look what Coug found,” Pooch teased. “Looks like he wants to keep him.”

Jensen licked Cougar’s hand in a bid for verbal freedom, but Cougar huffed at the juvenile action.

“I like the kid. He’s got balls.” Pooch clapped and smirked at Jensen. “And, for your information, our sniper humping you might be a clue you’re battin’ for the other team.”

Clay wasn’t pleased in the least with the antics or the delay and glanced around the alley. “We’ve got a job to do. Cougar, enough playing around. Let’s roll.”

Cougar bounded up with a grace that made Jensen’s pants tighter. Of course fate would drop his walking wet dream into his lap and take it away. It was the way everything had been his entire life. Jensen closed his eyes and decided staying in a stinky alley wasn’t such a bad idea. It’s where discarded things belonged after all.

Cougar stance widened in a don’t-fuck-with-what-belongs-to-me attitude his team members had only seen him display over his rifle and hat. “No.”

Clay cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

Cougar motioned to Jensen. “He can help.”

“Help get you off? Or help get us killed,” Rogue spat and eyed Jensen’s throat, clearly wanting to slice him from ear to ear.

“Rogue…” Clay warned. “No slice ‘n’ dicing the civvies without my orders.”

“He’s army,” Cougar growled. “I’ll vouch for him.”

“So?” All three of them said at the same time.

“He’s smart. We need a new techie.”

“After Rogue lost the last one in the jungle.” Pooch did air-quotes after ‘lost’ and Rogue made gutting motions with his blade.

Jensen had no idea what was going on. Maybe Cougar, that was his name which was totally awesome, had kicked him in the head too hard. “Hey, what-” Cougar kicked Jensen to shut him up, then glared at him possessively. “Oh. Sure.”

Clay glanced at his watch. “Cougar, we don’t have time for this.”

Jensen scrambled to his feet and came to stand behind Cougar, invading his personal space. “Seriously, I can do tech stuff like nobody’s business. I’m a hacker and whiz with anything electrical or battery powered. That sort of sounded dirty. Just ask my commanding officer… not about the dirty thing, but about my technical prowess. I jerry-rigged a hot dog roaster in basic with only a jeep battery, coat hangers, seven rubber bands, and super glue, though I did glue my fingers together. But, that’s a mistake nobody makes more than three times… four times tops.” Jensen scrubbed his right palm onto his thigh to wipe off the blood and grime, holding it out expectantly to Clay. “My name’s Private Jake Jensen, sir.”

Clay’s eyes narrowed. “Jensen? As in General Jensen?”

“Yeah, that one.” The hopeful and eager look disappeared from Jensen’s face as he winced. He stuffed both his hands into his pockets, averting Clay’s judging stare. “I see his reputation precedes him. I’m definitely not who you’re looking for then. I’m a messed up freak who he wants nothing to do with. I’ve spent more time doing push-ups, peeling potatoes, and in the stockade than I have toeing the company line. I’m too smart for my own good and I have a big mouth. Oh, yeah, and…” He hesitated, taking a deep breath and finding new courage with Cougar so close. If he was going to go down, then he was going to go down with a bang. He was done hiding. “I like dudes. So, before you tell me to shove off, let me tell me exactly where you can stick your-”

“You’re nothing like your old man,” Clay cut him off and held up a stalling hand. “I like that.”

Jensen unconsciously moved even closer to Cougar and squared his shoulders. “Thank God. He’s a lop-jawed, knuckle dragging, pea-brained, waste of space bully and he’s dumb. I hate dumb people.”

Clay locked his gaze with Cougar who was all but radiating mine-mine-mine-mine vibes. Jensen seemed more than happy with the situation.

“Private, if you had any brains, you’d be running as fast you could the other way from us,” Clay warned. “Taking up with us professionally is likely to get you killed. Hell, taking up with Cougar in any capacity is likely to get you killed.”

Jensen perked up and started to dance around Cougar who rolled his eyes at the antics. “That sounds like an invitation to play to me, if I ever heard one. So, I can play, too? Can I blow something up?”

“Can you disarm a wireless infra security camera?”

“I’m insulted,” Jensen snorted with a huff. “Give me sixty seconds. Give me two minutes and I’ll have the whole system broadcasting the underwater feed at Sea World. I love dolphins personally, but if you prefer the killer whales, I can make that happen, too. Squids are just freaky, but whatever floats your boat or crumbles your cookie. Don’t get me started on cats. Give me five minutes and-” Jensen smirked and bumped his shoulder with Cougar. “Give me five minutes and I’ll work wonders that’ll make you-”

“Big words and a bigger ego,” Pooch commented. “I say we give him a chance.”

“This isn’t a democracy.” Clay tapped the face of his watch. “Fine. Trial by fire.”

“You won’t regret this,” Jensen promised and managed a sloppy salute in Clay’s general direction. “Sir.”

Clay knew it was a dumb decision, but the right decision. Something wild and feral had settled in Cougar. Besides, the man had always had an eerie sense of knowing what the right decision was. He tossed Jensen his spare handgun and was pleased to see him catch it with no trouble, then quickly check it and the ammo clip over with nimble fingers.

“I already do. Let’s see how big of a loser you are, kid.”

++++++

Jacob Jensen, Age 20

Jensen was passed out and drooling on Cougar’s chest after spending thirty-seven hours straight in front of a computer. He’d literally saved the world and Clay’s retirement fund. Again. He’d also diverted a sizable chunk of cash to a ferret rescue organization in Cincinnati.

It was hard to believe that they were still together and alive. Jensen had changed a lot. He’d grown into a confident, charming, and maddening man, even though sometimes Cougar knew he was still haunted by the insecurities of his past. In the first few weeks and months with the team, Jensen had shifted personalities and identities left and right, testing to see what fit in best. Bit by bit, Cougar lured out and befriended the real Jensen.

Being around Jensen did funny things to Cougar. With time and patience, Jensen’s wariness gave way to genuine playfulness. Jensen watched cartoons in his underwear while eating Fruit Loops and stole Cougar’s socks. Cougar had killed men for less. The looks of hero worship had grown into real friendship and mutual respect. He liked being around someone who didn’t mind that he didn’t talk a lot. Jensen filled up the silences and that was fine with the both of them.

The lust and passion never lessened, only deepening as they grew closer in the field. Clay said it was spooky how well they worked together and could predict what the other would do during radio silence. Jensen went off on a rant about brain waves and tinfoil that ended with Rogue stabbing him with a fork. Pooch said they shared a weird-ass connection. Rogue voiced loudly that he thought it was all disgusting and they were all a bunch of women, then he went and blew a bunch of shit up.

Jensen was a screamer and sucked cock almost as well as he hacked. Rogue blew more shit up when he found that out the hard way. An insomniac with access to unlimited explosives and a knife fetish was never a good thing. There’s still a crater somewhere in Brazil that they blame on an asteroid, but it really occurred after Rogue stumbled on Jensen deep-throating Cougar in the back of a banana yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Jensen called it their ‘love bug of doom’. From that day Jensen had a fondness for yellow vehicles and a ten percent hearing loss in his right ear. Unfortunately, Rogue developed a facial tick whenever he saw anything yellow on wheels.

The real Jensen was scarily smart, brave, and had a bizarre sense of humour. He was easily distracted, but he always got the job done. He put the safety of others above his own well-being to a fault. Jensen was forever worrying that he would screw-up… get kicked off the team… do something to piss Cougar off. There was no hiding that he was needy, but Cougar liked to be needed. He liked having someone to take care of and with time, Jensen was growing more confident. He let his regulation cut grow out and highlighted the tips. The facial hair was another test and he’d babbled for ten minutes straight that he’d shave it off if Cougar didn’t like it. Cougar had to shut him up a variety of ways that left him with whisker burn in some rather inconvenient places. Pooch never let him forget that and called Jensen’s goatee a ‘Cougar Catcher’. Jensen played with toys, both the adult kind and the kind for kids. Cougar indulged him and bought him both, but refused to do anything kinky with the dinosaurs. Some lines were never meant to be crossed.

The favourite change of all for Cougar was the glasses. At first Jensen hid the fact that he needed glasses, thinking that it was a weakness. But, then they’d gone into the jungles of Brazil on a mission and fussy contacts weren’t an option. A sheepish Jensen had shown up, blushed in a pair of shiny new glasses. Cougar had fucked Jensen with the glasses on all night until he realized they were fine by him. Jensen didn’t bother with contacts again unless they were essential for a mission.

Around the team’s shared quarters, Cougar staying in to wash his hair had an entirely new context. Jensen had a thing for Cougar’s hair. Cougar dealt with it and learned to wash his hair more. Rogue blew up an abandoned apartment building in Sarajevo when he learned why Cougar was washing his hair more. Jensen was pretty vocal in his opinion that Rogue had intimacy issues. Rogue stabbed Jensen with a chop stick. After he dug out the splinters, Jensen retaliated by giving Rogue a concussion and six inch scar with a spork.

Clay had been exceptionally good for Jensen. He was the father figure the kid always craved. Under Clay’s firm direction and praise, Jensen grew to his full potential. He never left the team after that first night, always if possible staying with Cougar.

“Whazat?” Jensen murmured when Cougar shifted on the small, creaky futon. “Cougs?”

“Go back to sleep, miejo.”

Jensen tightened his grip on Cougar’s trim waist, not opening his eyes, still mostly asleep. “You’re stayin’?”

“Quiero pasar mi tiempo contigo. Te amo.”

Jensen rubbed his cheek against Cougar’s sweat damp skin, nuzzling, and licking before he fell back to sleep with a soft snore. Cougar ran the tips of his fingers along the base of his neck, wandering down his spine. He should probably feel guilty for bringing Jensen into this life, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Jacob Jensen was a born loser.

END.


End file.
